Acid (10 page)

CHAPTER 13

‘REMEMBER, YOU TALK
to no one. And you don’t leave my side for a second,’ I tell Max as he pulls up the hood of his dark blue sweatshirt. I bought it for him second-hand to replace the green one in case Mrs Holloway
does
see us and remembers Cade was supposed to be wearing it the other day. Max nods, tugging the hood forward as far as it will go so his features are lost in shadow beneath it. The sweatshirt’s a little too big because of all the weight he’s lost, but if he rolls up the sleeves it’s not too bad. ‘And whatever I say,’ I add, ‘you do it and ask questions later, OK? Especially if we bump into Mrs Holloway.’

Max nods again, shifting from one foot to the other. As I grab my jacket, I catch him looking at me. He’s been doing it all morning. ‘What?’ I say.

‘Um, nothing,’ he says, but his face goes pink.

‘So why do you keep staring at me?’

‘I was just – just thinking that it suits you, having your hair like that. That’s all.’

I reach up and touch the short braid I’ve plaited my hair into, my face warming up too, feeling a secret spark of pleasure. Usually, I wear it hanging down, a curtain
between
me and the world, but today it was annoying me, so I tied it back.

‘Let’s get this over with,’ I say, pulling on my jacket. Max nods, then starts coughing. He’s been coughing all night. Even though he’s recovered from the CloudNine withdrawal, he’s clearly run down.

As I turn to check that I’ve closed the windows and turned off the news screen, my mouth’s dry and my heart’s thudding.
In less than an hour
, I remind myself,
Max will be safe. Then you can sort out the situation with Cade and things can go back to normal
.

I let out a slow, shaky breath. ‘Got your c-card?’ I ask Max.

He waggles it at me. I check my pocket for my own, fix my komm a little more firmly into my ear, and unlock the front door.

I peer out. The corridor is deserted.

‘Keep quiet, OK?’ I say as I step through the door and beckon at Max to follow me.

The apartment building is silent. As we creep down the corridor, I realize I’m holding my breath. If we can just make it out of the building without bumping into her again—

‘Mia!’ a voice says just as we reach the lift and the doors open. I look round to see Mrs Holloway plodding towards us. ‘Would you mind awfully if I . . .’

Then she looks past me and sees Max. Her voice trails away.

‘This is Mikey,’ I say hurriedly. ‘He’s Cade’s brother.
He
came to get me so we could find a really good spot for the ceremony.’

Three different expressions are jostling for position on Mrs Holloway’s face as she tries to make out Max’s face: suspicion, confusion and happiness.

‘Oh, how lovely,’ she says as happiness wins the fight – just.

I shove the side of Max’s foot with mine. ‘Y-yeah, we’re really excited,’ he says, and starts coughing.

‘Anyway, Mrs Holloway,’ I say, super-bright, ‘we must go. I’d hate to get stuck at the back and not be able to see anything! See you there!’

I stab the DOWN button with my thumb.

‘Shit,’ I breathe, leaning my forehead against the cold metal wall of the lift as it jolts into motion.

‘Who’s Cade?’ Max says, looking puzzled.

‘No one,’ I say. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

Outside, rows of gold and white banners have been strung up between the buildings, flapping and cracking in the breeze. It’s cloudy, and starting to spit with rain. The pavements are packed with people, moving towards the ceremony square in one seemingly solid mass.

‘ID, please.’

I jump, turning to see an ACID agent standing just outside the entrance to Anderson Court. His visor’s pushed up, and as I fumble in my pocket, my heart hammering inside my chest, he watches me coldly. I hand over my c-card, telling myself to stay calm. ACID always do spot checks on ceremony days – with so many people
converging
on the ceremony squares, I guess they think they can’t be too careful.

It’s just, with everything else, I’d forgotten all about them.

I hold out my card. The agent scans it with the microreader embedded in the wrist of his glove, waits a few seconds and nods. Then it’s Max’s turn. My heartbeat climbs another few notches. The agent passes his wrist across the card, eyeing Max as he does so. ‘I didn’t realize it was raining that hard,’ he says, narrowing his eyes, and I feel my heart skip a beat altogether. ‘How about taking that hood do—’

Then someone cannons into him from behind. A man, frustrated with the slow-moving crowd, has shoved right into him.
Unlucky for him, lucky for us
, I think as the agent, forgetting all about waiting for the results of Max’s c-card check, turns with an angry ‘Hey!’ and grabs the man, pinning his arms behind his back so he can cuff him. I grab Max’s arm, muttering, ‘Come on,’ and we melt away into the crowd jostling its way along Treynold Road.

On the way to the mag terminal, we pass the square, where the ceremony has already begun. I can’t help slowing to look. Like all the squares in Outer, the buildings overlooking it are faced with fake stone to make them look smarter – and they probably did before it started to crack and crumble away, revealing the stained concrete underneath. In the middle is a huge statue of General Harvey, people climbing onto its base for a better view of
the
stage at the far end, which is decorated with limp swags of gold fabric and hung with ACID logos and gigantic banners reading:
CONGRATULATIONS, NEW LIFEPARTNERS, ON THIS JOYOUS DAY!
The ten couples being Partnered today are already lined up on the stage, the girls wearing elaborate dresses that their parents probably had to save for years to buy – lace and beads, foamy chiffon and heavy silk – while the boys are more soberly attired in suits, shirts and ties. The sense of excitement in the air here is palpable. People are chattering, laughing, admiring each others’ outfits and proudly pointing out their relatives on the stage, and cheering as the ACID official standing at the front of the stage starts to read out the names of the couples behind him. It’s nothing like the ceremonies in Upper. Mine – if I’d had it – would have been a private, elegant affair, with just my family and my Partner’s family present. I remember how, when I was a kid, I used to draw pictures of the dress I was going to wear and practise the speech I was going to make when my Partner and I made our vows. I don’t know whether to be relieved or sad that it’s never going to happen now.

Then I notice the ACID agents standing in front of the stage and at various points around the square, their faces hidden behind their visors, pulse guns held ready. A little shiver goes through me as I remember the agent on the roof at Mileway firing at Alex Fisher; the halo of electricity fizzing around Max’s dad as he lay face-down on the concrete. I turn away from the square and walk quicker, head down as I push my way along the busy
street
with Max following me. ‘What’s wrong?’ he says as we leave the square behind.

‘Nothing,’ I tell him, swallowing hard against the guilt rising in my throat.

The rain’s spitting harder now. I can feel it against my face. Up ahead, I catch sight of the mag terminal. A mag to Zone X is just pulling up, and we jump on it – we can change onto a mag to the medicentre at the Zone X interchange. The only other passengers are an elderly couple at the far end of the pod, which means, for the first time in as long as I can remember, I’ve got a seat. ‘Keep your hood pulled up,’ I mutter to Max as we sit down. He nods, coughing. I settle back and sigh.

As the doors close, I glance out of the window.

And see the agent who checked our c-cards outside Anderson Court striding across the terminal towards us.

 

Transcripts of kommweb9 links between ACID Control and Agent 563 Devlin

Date of link:
24.05.13

Time of link:
0900 hrs

This is Agent 563 Devlin, requesting backup.

Agent Devlin, this is Control. Please clarify.

Suspicious c-card flagged during routine stop check at Anderson Court, 35 Treynold Road, Zone M. It’s one of the Nicholls cards. There was a scuffle with another member of the public as I was doing the check and the suspect left the scene before I could apprehend him.

Do you have a visual on the suspect?

Not at the present moment. Am attempting to follow but am being hampered by large crowds travelling to the ceremony.

Can you describe the suspect?

A young male. The name on the card was Michael Adams. He was wearing a blue top with the hood pulled up and was accompanied by a female of a similar age with dark red hair by the name of Mia Richardson. I stopped them for a routine check as they left Anderson Court.

One moment, please. I’ll link to kommsat and try to locate the suspect.

We have a link to Mia Richardson’s komm; Adams doesn’t appear to be wearing one. Suspects are three hundred metres away from you at the Zone M mag terminal. Can you follow on foot? I will request backup ASAP. Be as covert as possible, we don’t want to panic the public.

Understood.

Date of link:
24.05.13

Time of link:
0910 hrs

This is Agent 563 Devlin calling Control.

Agent Devlin, this is Control, have you apprehended suspects?

Er . . . no.

Please clarify, Agent Devlin.

Suspects had already boarded the mag by the time I reached the terminal. Due to the crowds, I could not reach them before it left, and could not disperse said crowds without drawing attention to myself. I need another link to kommsat to locate them.

One moment, please.

I have a location. Suspects are on their way to the transport interchange at Zone X.

Do you want me to follow?

No, I will alert agents already out there. Please return to Treynold Road. We have just received a report from a bystander about one of the residents at Anderson Court. The bystander is the building’s LifePartner Ambassador and the resident she reported is Mia Richardson, who she says she saw leaving this morning with a male who is not her LifePartner. I am sending a team over to search Richardson’s apartment and reassigning you to them.

Understood. On my way.

CHAPTER 14

MAX HAS SEEN
him too. He whips his head round and under his hood I can see his eyes are open wide. ‘Is he—’

‘Shut up,’ I murmur through clenched teeth. ‘Act normal.’

For a few awful seconds I think the agent’s going to reach the mag before it sets off. He’s right outside, and as he reaches a gloved hand towards the button for the doors he looks through the window. Even though I can’t see his face behind his visor I know he’s looking straight at us.

Just before he can press the button, the mag begins to move, quickly picking up speed.

‘Was he after us?’ Max says. His voice is quiet, controlled, but he’s jogging his knee up and down rapidly.

‘I don’t know,’ I say.

‘It was my card,’ he mutters, glancing at the elderly couple, who are absorbed in conversation and taking no notice of us whatsoever. ‘He realized it was a fake, didn’t he?’

A coughing fit doubles him over. ‘I don’t
know
,’ I say when he’s recovered, panic making me irritable.

‘What are we gonna do?’ he asks. ‘We can’t go to your friends now. We could lead ACID straight to them.’

Shit
. I hadn’t thought of that, but he’s right. I stare around the pod, as if I’m hoping the answer will be on one of the ACID holoposters above the windows or scratched into one of the walls.

‘We’ll have to get out of London,’ I say, being careful to keep my voice down. Max leans closer to me so he can hear. ‘When we reach the interchange, we’ll get on a train.’

‘Where to?’ Max says.

‘Anywhere,’ I reply.

He leans his head back against the window behind him, and I see his throat jerk as he swallows.

Twenty minutes later, we’re at the interchange. ‘Wait,’ I say quietly to Max as we get off the mag and it slides away behind us. ‘I need to link my friend and let her know we’re not going to be at the clinic.’

I try to work out how I’m going to hint to Mel about the trouble we’re in without giving anything away. The interchange’s concourse is almost as busy as the streets around Anderson Court, so I find a quiet spot by the main tram terminal and speak Mel’s kommweb ID, waiting for the link to connect. I feel sick. My stomach’s tying itself in knots.